快乐时光光诸 译

Happy Hour李·安·罗里波


我总是想不起它的名字,
I always forget the name,
“翠雀花”,
delphinium,
即使它是
even though it was the flower

蜂鸟们
the hummingbirds
最爱的花。它们成双成对到来——
loved best. They came in pairs—sleek,
光滑的,祖母绿的小脑袋
emerald-bright

那钟表一样精确挥动的
heads, the clockwork machinery
快到模糊的双翅
of their blurred wings
迅疾地倏倏作响,咄咄逼人的机器。
thrumming swift, menacing engines.

它们抽动鸟喙,
They slipped their beaks.
就像在用小棒搅动香槟,深深地
as if they were swizzle sticks, deep
插入
into the blue

翠雀花蓝色的喉咙
throat of delphinium and sucked
吸干蜜汁——
dry the nectar-
冰冷的心就像高脚杯
chilled hearts like goblets full of sweet,

装满了甜蜜的,冰冻的黛克瑞酒。
frozen daiquiri.
我喜欢在黄昏
I liked to sit on the back porch
坐在后门廊,
in the evenings,

一边看它们一边吃
watching them and eating Spanish
西班牙花生,在
peanuts, rolling
拇指和食指之间转动它们
each nut between thumb and forefinger

捻去上面
to rub away
红色的浸盐外皮
the red salty skin like brittle
就像捻去脆硬的纸巾。
tissue paper,

直到露出闪亮的果核,
until the meat emerged gleaming,
就像老象牙一样黄,
yellow like old
就像抛光的骨头一样光滑。
ivory, smooth as polished bone.

在八月末,
And late August,
在黄花的感慨之后,
after exclamations of gold
锦鸡儿树
flowers, tiny

长出又小又苦的种子,
and bitter, the caragana
它让自己的豆荚成熟,
trees let down their
干透,开裂——
beans to ripen, dry, and rupture—

这里会有
at first there was
爆米花轻柔的鼓声,开始时油滑得意,
the soft drum of popcorn, slick with oil,
踱步走过——
puttering some-

在种子,热浪和云中间。
where in between seed, heat, and cloud.
然后尖锐地爆炸
Then sharp cracks like cap
就像发令枪或者微小的烟花。
gun or diminutive fireworks,

而锦鸡儿的豆子
caragana
就像弹丸一样
peas catapulting skyward like
被弹向天空。
pellet missiles.

有时草地百灵鸟会用旋律
Sometimes a meadowlark would lace
给夜晚的空气
the night air with
织满精致的蕾丝,
its elaborate melody,

就像黑色的缎带
rippling and sleek
光滑地泛起波纹。
as a black satin ribbon. Some-
有时
times there would be

我能看到流星。
a falling star. And because
因为这些发生在怀俄明州,
this happened in
而且因为
Wyoming, and because this was

这里是我父母的房子,
my parents’ house,
而且因为
and because I’m never happy
我从来没有因为任何事情而感到开心,
with anything,

在任何时候。我一直希望,
at any time, I always wished
我在另一个地方,
that I was some-
哪里都可以,除了这里。
where, anywhere else, but here.


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